As she and her elven lover lay in their bed, the bull having left their orgy to sit in the soup of their juices, the demoness lies awake. Gently running her clawed hands along the corrupted lesbian priestess, she takes inventory of the event.
Thinking to herself, as not to wake the high elven beauty, she stares at the flickering candles on their dresser. 'This isn't right... we have accomodations, wealth, power, I've dreamed of... and the thoughts hidden in the back of my mind, freed and acted upon, giving me a lover I shall always have... but it isn't right...' Gently escaping her girl's embrace, she stands out of the bed, moving to some towels and a basin of water to clean her dark evil body, glancing in a mirror, in which she has no reflection.
'I am no demon... I am not a minion of Hell... I joined this group to do good, I spent a year and a half of their distrust, that priestess never trusted me until now, a product of this... this curse!' She gazes at her body, crooning softly as she feels pleasure arching through her body like electricity. She whispers, "I will keep this form, but I will do what we came here to do, if I have to do it alone"
Writing a note to the priestess, begging her not to interfere no matter how much loyalty she may feel to the Wicked Queen now, and to forgive her if she should fail and perish, expressing her undying love for her lover, the demoness melds with the shadows of the hallways as she avoids the sight of the guards.
Making it finally to the tunnel to the breeding caves, she sighs and nods. Knowing in her head the only transformed who still had a mind not embracing the change. "The elf... the green dragoness... she may be lost in her new life but she isn't mindless to it.. " She sighs as she makes her way down into the crypt "At least I hope not... I'll have to avoid Garon, lest he eat me for late night dinner, heh."
She makes her way deeper into the cavern, past grottos of water towards the sound of the slumbering dragons. She gazes in wonder as she sees 4 litters of dragonets already produced by the broodmother, her bosoms look even larger as they are prepared to feet her children, all whom look newly born and still slumbering between their mother and father.
The broodmother slumbers, peacefully in serenity of her new daughters, despite knowing what their purpose in life is. Her mind enjoying the thought of rearing her young, but the elf she truly is still in the back, demanding the fall of the Queen, aching for justice.
Taking a deep breath, the dark winged woman moves towards the dragons.